


All Of You, All Of Me (Intertwined)

by secretsidgenowriter



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: College AU, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, non-hockey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 16:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsidgenowriter/pseuds/secretsidgenowriter
Summary: Sid’s smile lights up his whole face. “You still look good.”“But not have style.”“Neither do I though, so.”“Then guess we perfect for each other.”“Guess so.”





	All Of You, All Of Me (Intertwined)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Taylor Swifts, Daylight, which is a huge mood for this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to [icedbatik](https://icedbatik.tumblr.com/) and [ljummen](https://ljummen.tumblr.com/) for looking this over for me!

“I used to think that these were fake,” Sid says, touching the rim of Geno’s glasses on Geno’s face. “I thought you were wearing them just to be cool. You know.” He pulls his hand away and wedges it beneath his head on the pillow. “Like you were being stylish.”

“You think I have style?”

“Definitely not.”

Geno smiles but doesn’t look away from the book he’s reading.

“I think you were wearing a tie-dye shirt the first time I saw you.”

“Think,” Geno snorts because he knows Sid _knows_. “Was shirt _and _bandana.”

“You were wearing it like a headband.”

“Had lots of hair back then.”

“The shirt was cropped.”

“Had abs too.”

Sid’s smile lights up his whole face. “You still look good.”

“But not have style.”

“Neither do I though, so.”

“Then guess we perfect for each other.”

“Guess so.”

Geno turns the page of his book then adjusts his grip so he’s holding it in one hand, thumb pressed against the spine. He drops his free hand to Sid’s back and rubs small circles until Sid falls asleep.

-

For Sid, it’s egg whites, protein shakes, and sautéed vegetables.

For Geno, it’s slightly burnt toast and eggs cooked in too much butter and served straight out of the skillet.

Sid winces as Geno’s fork scrapes against the non-stick surface. Butter drips as he brings it to his mouth.

“Oh,” Geno says, then shoved the eggs in his mouth, tosses the fork down and stands, crossing the small kitchenette to the fridge. “Almost forget.”

He pulls out a plastic container of fruit salad, unopened, and puts it down in front of Sid. He unwraps the plastic from around the top and pops it open.

“Healthy, yes? Have roommate on swim team. Only eats healthy. Think maybe hockey team same way.”

Sid nods and picks up a grape. It’s a little soft. “Your roommate won’t be mad that I’m eating his food?”

Geno shrugs and tucks back into his side of the skillet.

Sid picks up a piece of pineapple. His palms are sweating and he feels stupid, sitting here at Geno’s tiny table fully dressed in his best jeans and his dumb polo while Geno lounges across from him, naked save for the ratty pair of boxers he pulled on this morning. Sid’s pretty sure they’re inside out.

Geno’s acting casual as anything, like they didn’t have sex last night. Maybe they didn’t. It was handjobs. Maybe that’s not sex. Are blow jobs sex? What if they’re not? Maybe they had to go all the way. Fuck. Maybe he’s only had sex once in his life.

“I should go,” Sid says at the same time Geno says, “Want to get dinner tonight?”

Geno blinks at him and Sid chokes on the pineapple. He tries to hack it up with big, heaving coughs and Geno’s up again, diving across the kitchen and returning with a carton of orange juice.

“Drink,” he says, handing the carton over then pulling it back to twist off the cap.

Sid takes a swig, not even caring that there’s no glass, and dislodges the pineapple.

“You wanna go out with me again?” he gasps and Geno looks at him with wide eyes, the hand that had been rubbing his back falls away.

“Yes? Who you think I ask?”

“No, it’s just —.”

“Have fun last night.”

“Yeah, for sure, but —.”

“Then okay. You pick place, I pick last night. Next time I pick. Go back and forth, is fair that way.”

Sid shakes his head in disbelief and then nods. “Okay. I’ll pick.”

—

Sid pushes the last few leaves of lettuce around on his plate, dragging them through the balsamic dressing and out again.

Across from him Geno is pouring himself another glass of wine and raises the bottle toward Sid, silently asking if he wants him to top his glass off.

Sid shakes his head. He already feels a little fuzzy, he doesn’t need anymore.

“Why are you with me?” Sid asks and Geno’s eyebrows pull together before he shrugs.

“Hockey butt. Best.”

“I’m serious.”

Geno hums and cuts at his pork chop. “Mmm. Me, too.”

“I just don’t get it.”

Geno frowns, clearly annoyed, which is understandable because this is annoying. They’re supposed to be celebrating; Geno is done with his finals and graduating in a few days and now is not the time.

But when else is this supposed to happen?

“Sid. What you doing?”

“You’re graduating. I’m not.”

“You next year.”

“So you’re just gonna, what? Wait around? Why are you wasting your time? Why have you ever been with me?”

“Sid, this is stupid.”

“I think we should breakup.”

Geno takes a deep breath in through his nose and exhales in a rush through his mouth. “Fine,” he says. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Sid says back. “Good. That was easy. That’s good.”

“Sid.” Geno puts his fork and knife down. “Why you like this? Why you do this? Can’t just be happy?”

“I am happy, I’m just realistic. You’re gonna be starting a job and a life and you’re gonna meet people and they’re gonna want to get to know you and you’re gonna say what? ‘_I have a boyfriend, he’s still in college.’”_

“Yes, because you are still in college.”

“It’s not fair to you.”

“What is fair?”

“What if you get a job across the country? What if one of your coworkers is your dream man?”

“You are my dream man.”

“Dream bigger.”

Geno takes another breath then shuts his eyes. “Fine. If you want this then fine.”

“I just think it’s better this way.”

Geno stares at him for a long moment then picks up his fork.

They finish their meal and pay and Geno follows Sid out onto the street.

“Have to go to store,” Geno says, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground. “Out of Gatorade. Everyone going to be hungover so …”

“I have some at my place,” Sid offers but Geno’s already stepping away.

“Have good night, Sid.” Then he turns away.

Sid’s nearly back to his dorm room when he realizes that’s not where he wants to be.

Geno’s apartment is across campus and Sid’s a little sweaty by the time he gets there. The door’s locked, Geno’s roommates are still out celebrating and Sid doesn’t have a key, so he sits down against the door and waits.

Geno shows up about ten minutes later, plastic bag filled with bottles of Gatorade in his hand.

“Don’t break up with me,” Sid says as he scrambles to his feet and Geno drops the bag and cups Sid’s face in his hands.

“Don’t want to break up with you. Was going to give you some time, space, then I talk sense into you.” He pulls Sid in and presses a kiss to each cheek then to his forehead.

“I thought this would be the best for you,” Sid says. “I thought I was doing you a favor. I keep thinking there’s more for you out there, you’re so … and I’m ...”

“Sid.” Geno still has his hands on Sid’s face. “Whoever make you think you not good enough for me?”

Sid can feel the tears burn in his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me.”

Geno wraps his arms around him and hauls him against his chest.

—

“You look like you’re going to be sick. Should I pull over?”

Geno shakes his head and tugs on the collar of his shirt like he’s trying to get himself more air. Sid lowers the passenger side window a few inches.

“You know we don’t have to do this.”

“Can’t cancel,” Geno says, sounding offended by the thought. “Look so bad. Drive so far.”

“I’ll tell them it’s my fault. I got sick or something.”

“No, no, keep driving. Is fine.”

Sid glances over at him and frowns. He looks red and sweaty and nervous, a far cry from the cool and collected man he’s come to love. The one who accepted the invitation to meet Sid’s parents with an easy nod and a joke about Sid’s father giving him the shovel talk.

“My Dad won’t, but my sister probably will,” Sid said and Geno tipped his head back and laughed.

“Like her already.”

Now Geno looks ready to open the car door and tuck and roll out onto the highway.

“Geno, really, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”

“Want to, though,” Geno says, shifting in the seat. Sid lays a hand on his thigh. “Is important. Is big.”

“You look like you’re gonna hurl.”

“I just say is big! Nervous.”

“You don’t get nervous.”

“Do now.”

Sid squeezes Geno’s thigh. “They’re going to love you.” He slides his hand farther up. “Just like I love you.”

Geno slaps Sid’s hand away. “Sid!”

“What?”

“You crazy.”

“I’m not,” Sid laughs. “You look so tense, I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“Not like that! In car, Sid, on way to parents house? You nuts.”

Geno folds his arms over his chest and frowns at the road ahead of them.

“I wasn’t going to actually do anything,” Sid says and Geno huffs.

Geno had put off his trip home to Russia for a few weeks and it seemed like a fun idea to road trip up to Cole Harbour, staying over at cheap Airbnbs in Boston and St. John before making the final push up to Nova Scotia.

Geno had been fine, smiling and making jokes and posting pictures to Instagram. But when he woke up in their rented apartment this morning, something had shifted.

He barely touched his doughnut and tea this morning and when he came out of the shower he was dressed in a shirt with a collar and buttons.

They drive in silence for a couple dozen kilometers before Sid takes the exit into his hometown.

“Is bigger than I think,” Geno says softly.

“It’s tiny.”

“It has Walmart,” Geno says as they pass the sign. “Not so small.”

Sid lets him win this one and steers the car toward home while Geno wrings his hands in his lap.

“If they don’t like me,” Geno says as Sid turns the car onto the street where he grew up.

Sid heaves a sigh. “They’ll like you.”

“If they don’t.”

“Geno.”

“Sid,” Geno snaps as Sid pulls into the driveway of his childhood split-level home. “If they don’t like, we still okay?”

Sid puts the car in park and cuts the engine. “I love you,” he says. “And no matter what happens when we leave here in a few days, I’ll still love you, okay? You just have to promise me that you’ll still love me after my mom shows you my baby photos.”

Geno laughs.

“I’m serious. When I was a teenager I dyed my hair for hockey. It was bad. Really bad.”

“Can’t wait to see,” Geno tells him then looks up to the house and takes a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” Sid asks and Geno nods and gets out of the car.

They’re just pulling their bags out of the back seat when the front door of the house swings open and Taylor comes barreling out.

Sid steps out, bracing himself for a hug, but she runs right by him and skids to a stop in front of Geno.

“You’re the boyfriend,” she says. “I saw pictures of you on Sid’s Facebook.”

“Since when do you have a Facebook?” Sid asks and is ignored.

“You’re cute,” she says. “And tall. Good job, Squid. Now come inside, you have to meet Sam!”

“Squid?” Geno mouths to Sid as Taylor grabs his hand and tugs him up the driveway to the house.

Sid watches them go then grabs both of their bags out of the back seat.

—

Sid blows across the top of his coffee, a half-hearted attempt at cooling it down. He doesn’t really care if it’s boiling hot or not. Maybe the burn will feel good.

From his spot at the table he has a clear line of sight into the small mud room off of the kitchen. It’s where they hang their coats and toss their dirty, sweaty hockey gear and leave their mud- or snow-covered boots.

Sid’s boots are lined up neatly on the plastic tray, left next to right and already unlaced, ready for him to pull them on.

Sid takes a sip of his coffee, a little disappointed to find that it’s cooled off just enough to be pleasantly warm. It’s heavy on sugar and cream, Geno fixing it the way he likes it instead of the way Sid does, but it was still a sweet gesture. Sid appreciates it.

Next to Sid’s boots are a significantly smaller pair. They’re dark green with a white zebra stripe. Geno had called them gender neutral when he picked them out, even though they knew the baby was going to be a girl. They wouldn’t have fit right away, obviously. She’d have to be three or four before she’d be able to wear them, but they were both looking forward to watching her grow into them. They’d be waiting for her.

She could have worn them someday, if everything had worked out. If the adoption had gone through and her mother hadn’t changed her mind at the last minute.

Sid can’t blame her for that. He’ll never know what it’s like to be in her shoes and it’s not like they had officially signed any paperwork and even if they had … god. How could he take like that? How could either of them?

Geno had said it wasn’t meant to be. That she wasn’t their baby, that theirs was still out there, waiting to find them just like they were waiting to find her. Or him. It would all work out in the end.

Sid doesn’t doubt him, he never has, but it still hurts to see the boots just sitting there, a sharp visual reminder of what could have been.

The door in the mud room flies open and Geno steps through. He’s wrapped up in his heavy jacket, a hat, scarf and a pair of gloves, even though he only walked the short distance down the driveway to get the paper and yesterday’s mail out of the box.

“Sick of cold,” he says as he unwinds the scarf. “We sell house and move to Florida. Now.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” Sid tells him. They’re not going anywhere. Not with this mortgage. “Is it cold out?”

Geno gives him an unimpressed look then kicks off his boots, lining them up beside the smaller pair like it doesn’t bother him at all.

“Be nice or I put cold hands on you.”

“You were wearing gloves.”

“Is that cold,” Geno says then hangs up his coat and tosses the paper and mail onto the table in front of Sid. “You like coffee?”

“Yes, thank you,” Sid tells him and takes another sip.

Geno smiles and runs one cool hand through Sid’s hair before he moves on and pulls his own mug out of the cabinet.

Sid listens to him puttering around in the kitchen behind him, filling the kettle with water and pulling out the different flavors of tea, trying to decide what he wants.

He stares at the boots as he sips his coffee. Maybe Geno’s right. Maybe they’ll get a call from the agency ten minutes from now. Or, maybe they won’t. Maybe it just won’t happen for them.

Behind him Geno starts singing under his breath, off-key and awful, and Sid smiles.

Maybe it’ll just be the two of them for the rest of their lives.

Maybe there are worse things.

—

Sid looks himself over in the mirror for the hundredth time and nods.

He thinks he looks _okay. _The polo shirt might be trying too hard but the jeans are good, even if they’re a bit tight and his hair isn’t doing that weird curly thing it does on the sides sometimes.

This is as good as it’s going to get.

“You look like a nerd,” Flower says as soon as Sid steps foot in the common room.

“You look like you’re going to a job interview,” Tanger adds, not even looking up from the video game they’re playing. “Are all your khakis dirty?”

“Should I change?” Sid asks, panicking as he looks down at his watch.

“Yes,” Flower says, elbowing Tanger so his cart flies off the rainbow bridge.

“Absolutely,” Tanger adds.

Sid throws his head back and groans at the ceiling. “Fuck you guys.”

“We’re just trying to help you get laid.”

“Nobody wants to fuck a guy in a polo shirt, Sidney.”

“So then what should I wear?”

Tanger doesn’t get a chance to answer because there’s a knock at the door and he’s springing up to get it.

“Wonder who that could be?” he sing-songs as Sid rushes forward, waving his arms.

“Do not open that door,” he hisses. “I have to change.”

“It would be rude to keep your date waiting, Sidney.”

“Yeah,” Flower says, pausing the game. “This is like, the first time ever Geno has been even remotely on time for something. Must be excited.”

“Too bad he’s gonna lose that boner when he sees that polo,” Tanger says. He has hand on the door knob and Sid clasps his hands together in front of his chest.

“Please, I’m begging you. Just stall him for five minutes.”

There’s another knock and Tanger grins and turns the knob.

“I hate your face,” Sid says as Tanger steps aside to let Geno in.

He’s in a long-sleeved tee and cargo shorts. His hair is combed back and the sneakers on his feet look nearly brand new. He looks good, effortless and casual, and Sid wants the floor to open and swallow him whole.

“Hi, Sid,” Geno says, after completing a complicated handshake with Tanger. He’s smiling as he looks Sid over. “Look nice,” he says. He sounds like he means it. “You ready to go?”

Sid nods and grabs his coat off of the rack.

“Have him back by ten,” Flower says, un-pausing the game and tossing the controller at Tanger.

“Let’s make it eleven,” Tanger says. “Let the boy have some fun.”

“You’re not setting a curfew for me,” Sid says. “I can stay out all night if I want.”

Tanger and Flower whoop and whistle and Sid’s face goes red when he turns to Geno.

“I didn’t mean to imply that … that’s not what I meant, I don’t think, I mean not that I wouldn’t, it’s just —.”

Tanger and Flower crack up and Geno raises his eyebrows behind his glasses.

He’s smiling.

“I’m sorry about them,” Sid apologizes and Geno waves him off.

“Is okay. Should go, though, have reservation.” Geno opens the door for Sid and Sid flips Flower and Tanger off before stepping out.

—

“Mama called.”

“Which mama?”

Sid puts the bowl of blackberries on the counter. The bushes were already planted when they moved in and require absolutely no upkeep. The only downside is the overabundance of blackberries that they’re faced with in August and September every year. They can only bake and freeze so much, so they’ve taken to bringing them to neighbors. It’s made them popular around the neighborhood.

“My mama,” Geno says. “She call about Christmas. Was thinking about maybe coming here.”

“Here like, to our house?”

Geno blinks at him.

“Right, yeah, sorry. Of course here. They want to come?”

“Miss me,” Geno says. “Miss you, too.”

Sid’s only met them in person once, at the wedding three years ago. Besides that it’s been Skype conversations with Geno as the translator.

“I miss them,” Geno admits and Sid’s heart breaks. It’s not easy living so far away from his own parents, but the distance is all relative. They’re not continents away and he and Geno see them at least twice a year. They could make the trip to Russia but the flight is long and expensive and they couldn’t be _together _over there. Sid knows that bothers him.

“You told them they could come, right?”

Geno nods. “Is okay?”

“Of course, god. You don’t have to ask.” Sid wraps his arms around him. “We’re gonna have a full house. We’re going to have to get an air mattress or something.”

“Think will be nice. Lots of people for holiday.” He shrugs in Sid’s arms. “Big family is good.”

“Are you going to be okay playing translator the whole time?”

Geno nods then shakes his head. “Mama says they been learning English. Is only little bit and they feel like is not good but is something.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Sid says. “That’s so sweet. I feel bad though, my parents definitely haven’t learned Russian. Taylor might know a little bit, I know she said she wanted to learn but — shit, I don’t even know anything.”

“You know some.”

“You taught me swears and things to say in bed,” Sid says and Geno laughs. “Unusable outside the bedroom.”

“I teach you other things,” Geno says as he hooks his arms around Sid’s waist. “I call you kotik.” He kisses Sid’s forehead. “Zaichik.” A kiss to his left cheek. “Dorogoi.” A kiss to his right cheek. “Solnishko.” A quick kiss to his lips and Sid melts into him.

“I still don’t think I can use those words with your parents,” Sid says and Geno rests his chin on the top of Sid’s head.

“I teach you others,” he says. “Have time.”

—

He finds Geno in Aisle 6 with an armful of baking supplies. Flour, sugar, chocolate chips, baking powder and soda.

“What are we making?” Sid asks as Geno dumps everything into the cart.

“Is for pantry. Good to have. Also, could maybe make cookies later.” He grabs a bag of brown sugar from the shelf and tosses it in the cart. “You get stuff?”

Sid got chicken and oatmeal. A gallon of milk and some produce. There’s nothing that he could use to pull together a full meal, but it’s all things that they use.

“We need coffee,” Sid says. “And tea.”

“Need everything,” Geno adds. “Is a lot.”

“No one tells you when you buy a house you have to actually buy things to put in the house.”

Sid loves their house. It’s older and filled with quirks that will, somewhere down the line, cost them money to fix. But, for now, it’s perfect. However, at more than twice the size of their apartment, their old furniture hardly makes a dent in it.

They’ll have to hit up IKEA or thrift stores to fill in the spaces.

They need new end tables for the master bedroom and more lamps for the living room. They should upgrade their tiny kitchen table to something that will offer more room in case they want to entertain, and they’ll need to install storage cabinets in the mud room off of the kitchen.

There’s a second bedroom that they’ll need to fill — it will be a great guest room for when Sid’s parents come to visit — plus the guest bathroom.

Then there’s the third bedroom, which they still need to discuss.

On the smaller side and sharing a wall with the master bedroom, the real estate agent had said it would make a wonderful office, or, if they decide, a nursery.

They both want kids, Sid knows that, but the timing of it is still uncertain. They’re in a good place right now and he knows the adoption process can go on for years before anything actually happens.

Is now the right time to start? Should they leave the room empty and start compiling baby items or should they throw a cheap desk in there and call it an office, one that neither of them will need or use?

They should probably decide _before _they make the trip to the nearest IKEA. It’s not really a conversation they should be having there.

It’s not a conversation they should be having in a grocery store either, but Sid’s not sure how much longer he can wait.

He watches Geno add pancake mix and syrup to the cart. He pauses in front of the Pop-Tarts then looks back at Sid before he grabs two boxes of cinnamon-flavored ones because he knows they’re Sid’s favorite.

Geno would make a great dad. He’d be the fun one, the best friend, the confidant. He’d always want to be doing something or learning something. Teaching them how to swim or skate or fish. Sid wants that for him. He wants to see it.

“We should turn that extra room into a nursery,” he says and Geno’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do we need an office for? I mean, we want kids, it takes time, we shouldn’t waste it. Let’s call an agency. Let’s get a crib or something, I don’t know. I just don’t want that room to be an office.”

Geno’s answering smile is soft and sweet. “Already been doing little research,” he admits. “Think I find good agency. Been looking at cribs and rocking chairs, too. Cute baby clothes. So cute. So small.”

Sid laughs. “So we're really doing it? Do you think we’re ready?”

“Yes,” Geno says. “If anyone ready is us.”

Sid laughs again, this joyous, bubbly thing that bursts out of the center of his chest. “Okay,” he says. “When we get home, we’ll make some calls.”

—

It’s too cold for ice cream but, when Geno suggested it, Sid agreed.

It’s their fifth date — not that Sid would ever admit to counting — and it’s Geno’s choice so they took the bus downtown because Geno likes the water and the bridges.

“Is why I decide to come here,” Geno says as they walk along the path to the point. “Remind me of home.”

“What?” Sid asks as he takes a sip of his milkshake. “The bridges?”

“Steel,” Geno says, digging his hands into his jacket pockets then pulling them out again. “History of the city. Very industrial like home. Plus is pretty. Why you pick here?”

“They gave me a scholarship. I couldn’t have afforded it without that. I actually don’t know if I could have afforded to go anywhere. I’m glad my parents have the money for my sister now. But she plays hockey, too, so maybe she’ll get a scholarship.”

“Taylor, right?”

Sid smiles up at him. “You remembered.”

Geno ducks his head, green and red lights from the tree at the Point shining down across his face.

“It is pretty down here,” Sid says. “Have you been up on the Incline?”

Geno nods. “Could go now if you want.”

“Really?”

Geno nods and shoulders Sid along the path in front of the empty fountain and Sid stops to look straight up the Point at the tree and the city behind it.

He’s glad he came to Pittsburgh and he’s glad he’s standing here tonight.

Geno stops beside him and their hands brush against each other. A second later Sid feels Geno’s fingers close loosely against his own. When he looks over, Geno’s not looking at him, but he is biting at his bottom lip like he’s afraid he just got caught.

_You’re so cute_, Sid wants to say. _I like you so much. I want to do this forever. _

Instead, he holds out his milkshake and asks, “Do you want a sip?”

Geno leans in and take the straw between his lips.

Sid squeezes his hand.

—-

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Don’t really have choice.”

“Why is this so hard?”

“Is big change. Big deal.”

“I just worry, you know?” “I’m know. Worry too, but will be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

Geno shrugs and looks out the passenger side window at the school. They dropped Chloe off fifteen minutes ago for her first day of first grade, but they haven’t made it out of the parking lot. “All kids go to school, yes? She’ll have fun.”

“What if someone is mean to her? What if she gets made fun of?” “Made fun of for what? She’s perfect little girl.”

“Kids can be cruel,” Sid says. He knows firsthand, His childhood was far from easy. “What if they pick on her for being adopted or because she has two dads.”

Geno whips his head around. “They do that? Now?”

“Who knows what these parents are teaching their kids.”

“We meet parents at open house, all seem so nice.”

Sid hums. “Who can really tell though.”

Geno looks grief stricken and that wasn’t Sid’s intention. Sometimes his worry bubbles over and he can’t help it.

“Hey.” He puts his hand on Geno’s arm. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid. She hasn’t had the easiest life so far, you know?”

Bouncing from foster home to foster home for the first five and a half years of her life meant they had to work hard to earn her trust. They had to make her understand that this was her home — forever — and that they’d always be there for her, unlike that time she came home from kindergarten to find a social worker instead of her foster parents.

They had a great summer together — splitting time between Cole Harbour with Sid’s parents and Pittsburgh with Geno’s parents — but now, school is starting and she’ll be away from them for nearly seven hours a day, five days a week.

“She seemed excited,” Geno offers, and that’s true. She was more than happy to go shopping for new fall clothes and back-to-school supplies. She walked into school with a spring in her step and holding both of their hands, bright purple backpack bouncing behind her.

“I just want her to be happy,” Sid says and Geno takes Sid’s hand off his arm and bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of his palm.

“She is happy,” Geno says. “Good day, bad day, she come home to us. Maybe we take her out for ice cream.”

“You just want ice cream,” Sid says and Geno smiles.

“Like you don’t? Know you have sweet tooth,” Geno says as he pats at Sid’s stomach, a little softer around the middle than it used to be.

“How do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?” Sid asks and Geno pulls his hand away and leans back in his seat.

“Is gift.”

“Well, I love it,” Sid says as he leans over and kisses Geno’s cheek. “Thank you.”

He starts the car with a sigh and gives the school one last look.

They’ll all be okay.

—

“You okay?”

Sid nods, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and palms slipping from where they’re braced against the headboard. He knows it’s knocking against the wall every time he rocks his hips and Geno’s roommates will probably give them shit. He doesn’t care.

Not right now anyway, not while Geno has three fingers inside him, working him open with one hand and slowly jacking him off with the other.

“You sure?”

Sid nods again as frustration blooms hot and heavy in his chest. They’ve been at this for god only knows how long and if Geno doesn’t give him just a little bit more, and soon, he’s going to burst.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Sid’s voice breaks off into a whine on the second fine as Geno crooks a finger. “It’s good.”

“Don’t want to hurt.”

“You won’t.”

“But you tell me if I do.”

“Geno, please, you won’t, just c’mon.”

Geno leans in and kisses the crease of Sid’s thigh, cheek brushing against Sid’s cock. “Want to make it good.”

“It will be,” Sid replies as he yanks one hand off the headboard and slaps it onto the bed. He tossed a condom there earlier and now he’s desperate to find it.

“Want to go slow.”

“We’ve been going slow, Jesus,” Sid bites out as Geno twists the hand that’s on his cock.

They’ve been going very slow. They’ve been dating for four months now and this is the furthest they’ve gone. After their first-date hook-up, Geno’s taken about four steps way back on the intimacy scale and it’s been driving Sid just the right side of crazy.

Sid’s not above begging, so he hooks foot around Geno’s back and digs his heel between Geno’s shoulder blades. “Please,” he whines and Geno shushes him.

“Slow,” Geno says softly and Sid frowns.

Geno wants to take his time, he wants to go slow, he wants to make sure it’s good. He clearly thinks Sid doesn’t know what he’s doing, that he’s inexperienced. It’s not the truth, or at least it’s not the _whole_ truth. He’s not a virgin. He’s done this before. He liked it, he wanted it, and right now, he really, really wants it with Geno.

“G, c’mon,” he presses his heel harder into Geno’s back. “Fuck me.”

“Soon,” Geno says and Sid huffs. He finds the condom and flings it in Geno’s direction.

“Now.”

“Why so hurry?”

“Because, it’s just.” He slaps his hand back on the headboard and pushes down on Geno’s fingers. “It’s not a big deal.”

Geno pulls both hands away and Sid winces at the empty feeling. When he looks down, Geno’s gaze is steely.

“Is big deal for me,” Geno snaps, getting to his feet and sitting on the end of the bed, back to Sid.

Sid lies there, stretched open and sweaty and thoroughly confused.

“I’m … sorry,” he offers as he sits up. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, if they’re allowed to touch Geno’s hunched shoulders or not, so he folds them in his own lap over his softening cock. “I’m … have you not done this before?” he asks then quickly adds, “It’s okay if you haven’t, I just assumed. It’s okay.”

“Have,” Geno says softly and Sid sits up farther to hear him. Geno’s playing with his hands in his lap, pressing his thumb against the center of his palm. “Only once. Was freshman year, he was older, I was dumb. Was just so excited to be here, you know? Could be myself. Could be with guys. After, he just leave, like, he didn’t care. I was just … body. Could be anyone. Was like it was —”

“No big deal,” Sid finishes for him. “Fuck.”

“Don’t want to feel like that again, so I haven’t done again. Want it to be special. Should mean something.”

“Of course.”

“So, if is no big deal to you —”

“It is a big deal,” Sid interrupts. He takes a chance and leans in, wrapping his arms around Geno from behind and hooking his chin over Geno’s shoulder. “I just thought …” He heaves a sigh. “I was trying to play it off. I thought you thought I didn’t know what I was doing or something. I thought you were worried about me.”

“Was worried about you.”

“I know but … look, I’ve only done this once before, but I thought I was so far behind you. Geno, god, you’re so … cool,” he says and Geno snorts. “I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced. I was embarrassed so I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal. It is.” He kisses the back of Geno’s shoulder. “With you it’s a big deal.” He presses another kiss to Geno’s neck and Geno twists around in his arms. “Do you want me to go back to my place?” Sid asks and Geno shakes his head.

“Is late,” he says. “Should stay.”

They disentangle themselves and Sid crawls into Geno’s twin bed while Geno gets up to go to the bathroom to wash his hands and brush his teeth.

When he comes back Sid lifts the covers so he can climb in.

Despite their size difference, Geno prefers to be the little spoon and Sid is happy to let him. Sid likes to tuck his face into the back of Geno’s neck and wrap his arms around his chest so he can feel Geno’s heartbeat beneath his skin.

Now, Sid runs his fingers through the hair at the back of Geno’s head, twisting them gently around the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” Sid says into the dark quiet. “I just want you to know that anything you want, I want to give to you. I’ve never met anyone like you and I’ve never felt like this before but that’s what it is.” Sid keeps petting his hand through Geno’s hair. “I love you so much.”

Sid feels Geno take three deep breaths, his back coming flush against Sid’s chest before he flips over, tangling the sheets around his body and getting as close to Sid as physically possible.

They’re pressed forehead to forehead, nose to nose, breathing the same air.

Geno’s eyes are closed but Sid keeps his open. He wants to see all of Geno forever.

“Ya lyublyu tebya,” Geno says softly.

Sid doesn’t speak Russian, but he knows what that means.

—-

“Don’t.”

Sid sticks his hand out in front of Geno’s phone, blocking the shot, and Geno clucks his tongue.

“Come on, Sid, is for parents.”

“They’re here,” Sid says flatly. “They can see me for themselves.”

“But they want pictures. Hang them in hallway. Put on mantel. Their baby is graduating college. Big deal.”

“Taylor is technically their baby and we don’t even have a mantel. Geno, c’mon, I’m serious. I look disgusting.”

It’s 90 degrees and 100 percent humidity and the polyester of his cap and gown lies heavy against his skin.

“Plus it’s not even a big deal. It’s not like I’m done with school. There’s grad school.”

“First, look beautiful,” Geno says, batting Sid’s hand down and lowering his phone. “Second, is big deal. You work so hard. Now, please, one picture?”

Sid rolls his eyes but nods and Geno grins and steps beside him, pulling him close and stretching his arm out to take a selfie.

“Perfect,” Geno says. “Definitely frame.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sid warns. “Where the hell are my parents?” Geno looks around. “Don’t know.”

Somehow, through the throngs of people, Geno had been able to find him, because Geno will always be able to find him. But his parents and Taylor are nowhere in sight.

“Might be hard to see you,” Geno teases, “but should see me easy.”

“Ha ha,” Sid deadpans as he grabs Geno’s wrist to pull him to a more empty spot in the field, away from the crowd. “We have to find them. They want to do lunch and then …”

Then his family is headed back to a hotel and Sid will go home with Geno, to the little apartment he rents by the zoo so he can bike to work. Sid’s belongings are still in boxes, lining the living room and the tiny kitchen, and he still has more up in Cole Harbour that he’ll have to bring down at some point.

How is it all going to fit? What are they going to do if it doesn’t? When will he get a job that will help with the rent?

Sid stops walking and Geno bumps into him from behind as panic and worry begin to bubble in his chest.

Geno steps around to look at him, eyebrows raised, and all the worry slides away. In the middle of the post-graduation chaos, everything goes quiet and still.

Very deliberately, Sid drops down to one knee, fingers still tight around Geno’s wrist.

“Marry me,” he says. Geno’s eyes go wide but they don’t leave his. “You’re the only thing I’m sure of in my whole life. Everything else is just …” He trails off and takes a deep breath. “Marry me,” he says again. “Please?”

Geno’s answer is a warm smile and watery eyes.

—

“Sid!”

Sid opens his eyes. He had dozed off on the couch, a stack of ungraded spelling tests and an uncapped red marker drying out on the coffee table in front of him.

“Sid!” Geno calls again. “You here?”

“In the living room,” Sid calls.

He hears Geno’s footsteps, followed by something lighter, a tip-tap against the hardwood, and he sits up on the couch.

“Have surprise,” Geno says and Sid turns around just in time to see Geno walk through the entryway with a dog beside him.

It’s big, some kind of Lab-shepherd mix, black and tan with greying around its muzzle.

“Whose dog is that and why is it here?”

“Is Molly,” Geno says and Molly looks up at him and wags her tail. “I adopt.”

“Without talking to me?”

“Is surprise. Thought you would like.”

“You don’t even like big dogs.”

“Sid!” Geno gasps, reaching down and covering Molly’s ears with his hands. “Is mean to say in front of her.”

“Geno.”

“You believe she been in shelter for five years,” Geno says. “Everyone overlook because she older, they want puppy.”

“G.”

“She young at heart. That what workers say. She cute, yes?”

“Geno,” Sid snaps. “Can you please tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

Geno presses his lips together and sighs heavily through his nose.

“Need something new,” he says. “Every since adoption go wrong you been different. Sad.”

“I haven’t been sad.”

“Have too, Sid. I’m know you, know how you supposed to be. You sad.” He walks Molly around to the front of the couch and he sits down beside Sid. “This is not baby,” Geno says, putting his hand on the top of Molly’s head. “But is something, something good and happy. You need this, Sid. Could give her good home. Could walk with you.”

“I run,” Sid tells him and Geno tips his head to the side.

“Know you walk. I’m watch you. You run to end of block then you walk. She can do.” He puts his hand on Sid’s knee. “Just want to make you happy again. Would do anything.”

“I’m not _un_happy,” Sid insists. “I swear. If it never happens for us, if we never have a kid —.”

“Will,” Geno interrupts. “Will happen.”

“But if it doesn’t, if it’s just you and me … I’m okay with that. I’m happy with that. I love you, you’re enough. I need you to know that.”

“I’m know,” Geno tells him, listing forward and pressing their temples together. “I do.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at Molly who is smiling up at the two of them. “What we do about her? I take her back or …”

“God no,” Sid says, snatching her leash out of Geno’s hands and holding tight. “You can’t bring her back there, are you crazy?”

Geno smiles, clearly pleased that his plan worked out as Sid rubs at Molly’s ears.

“How’s it going, girl?” Sid asks her. “Welcome to our family.”

—

Geno smells like sweat, deodorant, and cologne when he sits down beside Sid at the head table. He shed his suit jacket and tie ages ago and his sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are flushed from dancing, but the way the lights wrapped around the outside of the tent catch the shine of the wedding band on his finger is perfect.

He’s perfect and Sid leans into him.

“You taking break?” Geno asks as he takes a sip of champagne.

“Just a little one,” Sid says. “These shoes pinch my feet.”

“Take them off. Taylor took off hers.”

Sid laughs and looks out toward the dance floor. Taylor is in the middle of everything with Flower and Tanger and a few of Geno’s friends from work.

Their parents are sitting together at a table, with Geno’s brother attempting to act as a translator. Sid knows his English really isn’t any better than Vladmir’s and Natalia’s but whatever he’s saying seems to be working well enough. They’re all smiling, they all look happy. That’s all that matters.

“You having fun?” Geno murmurs into Sid’s hair and Sid nods.

It’s been a long day and Sid’s ready to duck out of the reception and head back to the hotel, where he can spend the night with his husband for the first time. The suite has a bathtub that’s big enough to fit the both of them and a balcony that overlooks the water and a king-size bed. Sid’s looking forward to that the most. He wants to strip himself and Geno out of these suits, leaving nothing on but their rings._ We’re married_, he thinks at the same time Geno says, “We got married today.”

“I know,” Sid says. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

Geno rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a groan. “Such big mistake,” he says dramatically. “Live with you forever, wake up with you forever.” He picks his head up and kisses Sid’s forehead. “Love you forever.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Sid says and Geno shakes his head.

“Was going to do that with or without ring but...party is fun too.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“With my husband beside me I have good time anywhere.”

“You’re so sappy.”

“Is wedding day, allowed to be.” He stands, brushing the wrinkles out of the front of his trousers then holds his hand out to Sid. “Come on, want to dance with husband some more.”

—

Sid stands on his toes and tries to see over the crowd of people that have packed themselves into the frat house.

It’s loud and crowded and Tanger ditched him fifteen minutes ago, saying something about wanting to talk to the girl in his English Lit class before disappearing into the fray. Sid’s sent a text that’s gone unanswered and the idea of calling seems a little pointless and a lot lame.

This isn’t the first party he’s been to. He’ll be okay on his own.

Slowly and politely, he makes his way through the crowd to the kitchen where a couple of frat boys are pulling more jello shots out of the fridge and pouring chips into bowls. They nod to Sid as he grabs a beer out of the Igloo coolers on the counter then stick their heads back into the fridge. Sid steps over discarded red Solo cups on his way down the hall, shoes sticking to the floorboards which are covered in something bright green and tacky. More jello possibly. Hopefully.

The place will be trashed by the end of the night and Sid’s glad he doesn’t know any of these guys well enough to feel guilted into hanging around to help clean up. He presses his back against the wall, letting a couple of girls by, then keeps walking, navigating around the absurd line for the bathroom before winding up in the living room again.

His phone buzzes in his pocket with a text from Tanger.

_Leaving_, it says, _Don’t wait up _followed by the winking emoji.

Sid rolls his eyes and slides his phone back into his pocket. He can go now. That’s enough partying to last him awhile.

He’s nearly to the front door when he hears his name being called and when he turns around, Geno Malkin is making his way toward him, people parting in front of him like the seas.

“You not going yet,” Geno asks and it takes Sid a moment to answer, still not absolutely sure Geno’s speaking to him.

“I was about to,” Sid says and Geno shakes his head.

“No, no, should stay. Haven’t even talked yet.”

“You want to talk to me?”

“Come on,” he puts his hand on Sid’s elbow and tugs, “you have pizza yet?”

Sid is helpless to do anything other than follow.

The thing about Geno and himself is that they’re not friends. They don’t even run in the same circles. Geno seems to be everywhere at once, at every party, every fundraiser, every charity fun-run.

Sid sticks to the tight-knit hockey team and not much else.

Geno is cool and fun and popular. The life of the party. The center of attention. Even now as he leads Sid through the living room and out the backdoor into the backyard, he’s stopped every few feet by someone who wants to say hi.

No one looks twice at Sid.

In the backyard there’s a long table set up with dozens of pizza boxes and more coolers beside a few more tables that are being used for beer pong.

People are milling around, playing and eating and drinking. It’s quieter and cooler and darker out here but somehow just as loud.

“Do you live here,” Sid asks as he reaches for a slice of pepperoni.

Geno nods, mouth already full of pizza and raises his beer bottle up to the second story of the house.

“Thought joining a fraternity would be good way to make friends, you know? Thought it might be hard coming from different country, strong accent.” He shrugs and takes a bigger bite. “Was good idea I think.”

Sid nods and takes a moment to look Geno over while Geno looks over the backyard.

In basketball shorts, a muscle tank, a snapback, and thick, black rimmed glasses that Sid is going to assume are fake, Geno looks like a typical frat boy. He looks good.

“How do you know me,” Sid asks and Geno looks down sharply.

“You friends with Kris. You on hockey team.”

“Kris? You mean Tanger?”

Geno shrugs. “French-Canadian. Good hair. Plays D. We have study group together.”

“I didn’t know you were majoring in communications.”

Geno shakes his head. “Not. I’m zoology but can still study together. You sophomore too?”

“Yeah, you’re a junior, right?”

Geno hums. “What’s your major.”

“I’m undeclared.”

Geno’s eyebrows shoot up. “Still?”

“I know. I have to pick...I just don’t know.”

“Maybe you play hockey. You good. Been to some games.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sure? Could go pro. Play in NHL. Get lots of money. Would be fun.”

Sid gives him a tight smile. He doesn’t have any intention of jumping back into the closet, even for all that money. “It’s complicated,” he tells Geno and thankfully Geno drops it. “I was thinking about maybe teaching,” he says and Geno’s eyebrows raise again.

“Yes, Sid, would be good at that.”

“You don’t even know me,” Sid says.

“So tell,” Geno says simply. “I see you at things sometimes, you come with Kris but you never come over and say hi.”

“You always seem kind of busy.”

“So then you see me too,” Geno says, looking entirely too pleased with himself and Sid ducks his head to hide his blush.

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” Sid tells him and Geno’s grin grows impossibly wider as he takes a step toward him, his body throwing off heat as he brushes against Sid’s. “What do you want to know about me?”

Geno hums. “Change mind,” he says, “if I learn about you here there won’t be anything to talk about on first date.”

“Oh.” Sid never imagined that being a possibility.

“Kris say you’re single.” Geno presses his hand, cool from the beer bottle he’s been holding against Sid’s arm. “Is true?”

Sid looks up at him, feeling warm and seen and if there was ever a time to be brave, it’s now.

“Are you drunk,” Sid asks and Geno tips his head from side to side.

“Little bit,” Geno says. “You?”

“Little bit,” Sid answers.

Sid kisses him anyways.


End file.
